A Love, A Loss, A Change
by Ms. Jade A. Cullen
Summary: my own kind of vampire family. a new way to meet the cullens, a new drama, a new bella. evry1 has a diff personality  a lil  and all completely diff names. so wat happens when daniela's family is dying 1 by 1? what happens when new friends come along?
1. Leaving

Leaving

I ran into my room and shut the door angrily. I turned to face my bed, breathing hard and frustrated.

_Why now?_ I thought to myself.

_My mom is a good person. She has good intentions. She just wants me to be happy, for him to be happy._

I have said this to myself for years. Actually, I've been saying this since my father died… and my grandmother.

That thought brought out a frustrated grunt. But I couldn't go back to that now.

I stomped to the other side of my room, where my bed is, and fell to my knees to reach under it to grab a gym bag. It wasn't really mine, - I don't do sports- it was my sisters when she was a cheerleader. Two years ago she got married and moved, leaving some of her stuff behind. So I kept some of it.

I filled the bag with all the clothes I could fit. I thought about what I was doing, so I stuffed all my cash into the bag as well.

When I went back into my closet, I spotted another duffel bag on the floor. I almost smiled, glad I could pack more, until I heard my mom's sobs get louder. If I didn't know the reason behind them, I would have rolled my eyes. But I did know the reason, and it was not something to roll your eyes at.

I grabbed the bag quickly, stuffing in what was left of my clothes, my books, - only ten- my IPod, my makeup, and stuff for my hair. There was still the some space left so I stuffed in my pillow and struggled with the zipper till it closed.

I grabbed my two bags and a giant purse, filled with memories. As I was about to open my door, I looked at myself through the full length mirror that hung on it.

My hair would be pretty on a good day; curly, down to my hips and brown with natural blond highlights from the summer sun. But not today. Today it looked shorter from the crazy knots and impossible frizz.

My eyes would be pretty, too. They're big and a little pointed at the ends, a nice chocolate brown that's not too dark. But now they were wide in shock and crazed almost to the point of madness.

Everything was wrong. Big lips gone almost white with fear; curvy body covered up in a large sweatshirt and pajama pants; tanned skin bleached in the moonlight that streamed through my window. I didn't recognize this girl anymore. She became a stranger. A stranger that might be the one to destroy all happiness for my mother, but save the last of mine.

I couldn't stand to look at her anymore. It would kill all my efforts at keeping from breaking down and crying like my mom. So I snapped myself out of the trance and opened the door.

"Chase!" I heard my mom sob.

I took a deep breathe. There was only one way out of the house. I stopped at the top of the stairs, hesitant. What was I doing? This was the worst time to be hesitant!

"No! Please, Chase! Please!" my mom kept shouting.

Every word, every scream was a stab in my stomach, in my chest.

Maybe I could stay. Find some way to help her. Save her from this…

No. I can't help. There's nothing I can do. I have to leave. Leave before she becomes aware of her surroundings.

My mind kept going back and forth, like an angel on one of my shoulders and a devil on the other. If only I knew which was which!

I sighed, and decided to compromise with both sides.

I dropped my purse on the floor and reached into my pocket for my cell phone. I dialed nine-one-one and the woman who picked up sounded very bored and tired.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

I gulped, knowing if I tell her what happened, it would seem real, causing me to snap out of my daze. But I had to tell her. It was the closest thing to help.

"My brother was… hurt." Yeah, that was a good way around admitting what happened. And it was true, though it was very vague.

The woman's breathing got louder and quicker.

"Oh my god. Okay, um, hold on. I'll get an ambulance right away. What's your address? Where are you?" Her voice was very panicky. What was with this girl? I didn't even tell her the worst. Hell, I didn't let my tone of my voice give it away! It was perfectly even, or at least I thought it was…

I answered all her questions quickly and firmly, being more careful with my voice.

"Don't worry; the ambulance is on its way. Now sweetie, what's your name?"

"Daniela," I responded in the same dead tone as before.

"Okay, well Daniela, I'm going to stay on the phone with you until the ambulance is there, okay?"

Once she said that, I hung up. I knew she was only staying on the phone to comfort me, and I didn't need that. I needed to leave, now.

I put my cell phone back into my pocket and picked up my purse. I waited a little impatient for my mind to go blank. Looking at the wall and seeing nothing, my mothers sobs seeming to get quieter, like turning down the volume on a radio.

Eventually, she became a quiet hum in my ears, and I made my way down the stairs- still a little too slow for my liking.

Soon my mother came into view and my legs started to move faster. My arms long to hold her, to comfort her. My lips and tongue longed to tell her everything's going to be okay and other similar lies.

But I had to ignore her. She was kneeling, staring down in front of her, her freckled face red from crying, nose running, and t-shirt soaked with tears.

And she was right in front of the door.

I realized my mind was starting to focus again and I couldn't let that happen. Not just yet.

I avoided looking her way. I looked straight at the door instead. Thought about my goal, focused on it because now I didn't have time to let my mind go blank again. Paramedics would be here any second.

It seemed like an eternity before I reached the bottom of the stairs, but when I did, I was only about four feet away from the door. I took a couple steps and stopped at about two feet from the door, with my mother about two feet of me to the right.

This was the last time I will see my mother. I will now have to remember her reddish-brown hair knotted and frizzy like mine, her pale blue eyes surrounded by smudged make-up, her glasses covered in tears, and her white skin with millions of freckles, wet in blood.

I looked at her closely one last time and saw pain. The pain of losing a mother, of losing a husband, of losing a son… and, in a matter of hours- maybe even less- the pain of losing a daughter.

The worst part for me is, I'm the one who will cause that extra pain.

I felt my cheeks getting wet, and my eyes getting puffy when I noticed my hand stretching out to her.

I pulled it back and wiped my face with my shoulders. I looked at the door, trying even harder to focus now. I switched my purse to my left arm with the other bags and reached out the two feet to crack open the door.

"I love you," I whispered a little louder than I expected.

Her head shot up and she was silent; it was piercing. I don't know how she heard me over her sobs.

"I love you, too," she said back.

I was shocked she responded, even more so when she started to get up.

Seeing her arms stretching out to me was like a sword going through my stomach and coming out my back.

Quickly I listened to the options in my head. Seventy percent of me said to stay here. Help my mom and let her arms wrap around me. I liked that option a lot. It sounded so inviting and perfect.

My other option is to leave. Think everything through. Three family members dead, each time things get worse. She drinks after work, smokes during work, and eventually quits her job to have more time for drinking. Then there's me trying to get her to stop, but I end up giving up and joining her. With us two left, I'm next to die. That's what I think at least, that's everyone's theory. We all feel that God is out to get my mom. We don't know why yet, but it certainly has seemed that way since my father and grandmother. I can't make her go through this again. It'll be easier if I leave, we'll start to grow apart a bit so when I do die, it won't be so hard on her. I didn't like this option too much, but it was the smarter option. The less selfish option and I knew I had to do it.

My mom was quite close to me now, so very quickly I learned toward her, kissed her on the cheek and leaned back. I could see more pain on her face so I looked away.

I stared outside and suddenly realized where I had to go.

I unwillingly stepped over the body of my little brother and without another word, ran into the moonlit night, leaving my helpless mother behind.


	2. Home

Home

I woke up the next morning- or was it the afternoon? - to a dim light. I felt dizzy and confused. Then suddenly there was another light, much brighter than the first. I blinked and groaned until the light left and it was dim again.

As I let my eyes adjust, a face came into view. It was a girl's, about my age, with pale skin, hazel eyes, and chin length straight blond hair. She was so close to me, it was suffocating. I didn't like her smell either; it wasn't really gross, just annoying.

I tried to get up, but boney hands pushed me back down. When I felt her skin, I realized I wasn't wearing my sweatshirt anymore. I looked down at myself and saw I was in my white tank top, which was under my sweatshirt and my green pajama pants were rolled up to the top of my thighs. I felt very vulnerable looking like this with a stranger next to me.

"Oh, no you don't," the girl said, still struggling with me.

"You lost a lot of blood, and you need to heal," she told me.

Finally, deciding that I really didn't have the energy, I gave up. The girl smiled when I did and I grimaced back at her. She laughed at me. I looked at her, surprised. This girl was insane. Frustrated, I looked around trying to figure out where I was.

I expected to be in a hospital, since she said I lost of blood. But I definitely wasn't. I saw that I was in a small bedroom. The dim light was coming from the lamp on the nightstand on the left of the bed. The head of the bed I was on was against a wall. It had two white pillows and a red comforter. My feet pointed to a white door with black trim. On the floor were my bags, and my purse. Next to the door was a black coat rack. The walls were white and the curtains on the one window to my right were black and now closed, letting no light in.

"Are you thirsty?" the girl asked, interrupting my observations.

I thought about it, and nodded my head. I was actually very thirsty, my throat dry and my mouth tasting like dirt.

She smiled again and gently propped my head up. I realized the back of my head was throbbing. With a bottle of water in her hand, she poured it down my throat. It felt wonderful. I moaned in pleasure as the ache in my throat started to disappear. She giggled and the bottle was gone. My eyes shot open and saw her pick up another full water bottle. I sighed in relief as she brought it to my lips. I don't know why I was so thirsty, but I really didn't care right now. I just needed liquids inside me.

By the time I finished the second bottle, my throat, tongue, and lips were perfectly moist. I looked at the girl and she was smiling brightly. It kind of creeped me out, like she wanted to grab my attention from a group of people, kissing up to me, it was pretty weird.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better," I mumbled.

"My name is Christy, by the way. Do you remember yours?" Her voice was very bubbly, her name fitting very well.

"Yes," I responded, not really wanting to tell her it.

She waited patiently for me to continue, but I could tell from her eyes that she felt awkward. I don't know why, but making people awkward always made me feel guilty. I waited a couple of seconds, kind of hoping she would let it go. She kept looking at me, expectantly. I sighed in defeat.

"Daniela," I said clearer than before. She sighed in relief.

"Okay, that's good. Do you remember what happened last night?"

Of course I remember. I will forever remember what remember what happened last night. I noticed she was looking at my bandaged head so I knew she was wondering how I got hurt… physically. I thought back to last night, after leaving. She didn't need to know about before.

"I was running away, trying to find that shelter for kids. Not the cheap one, the one that sends you to school. But I wasn't paying attention and fell on the sidewalk. That's all I remember." The shelter was called "Midnight Help". Not many people know about it so I didn't say its name. It's a weird name, but who cares? It's a shelter for runaways or teenage orphans, run by some multi-millionaire.

"Perfect! Tim will love this!" She seemed very excited which was confusing and almost scary.

"Who's Tim?" I asked, very innocent.

"You're in Midnight Help. Welcome to your new home," she greeted me. I actually smiled at this, though I did notice how she had avoided my question. It made me curious and up for the challenge. I could deal with about anything at this point.

"If you need anything, there is a phone on the nightstand and the number to my room is next to it. Though, I would really like for you to rest. You had a bad fall, and the bags under your eyes look like you haven't slept in days. Well, I got to go do homework," she got up from the bed and walked toward the door. She stopped at the door and turned back to look at me, no more smile. Her face looked like she could kill someone in a dark and creepy way.

"And by the way, stay away from the Nightingale's. That family will bring nothing but trouble." It sounded very much like a threat but I could tell it was a warning.

I waited after she shut the door for the sound of her footsteps to fade away. Once they did, I got up off the bed and looked around. I spotted another door on the right wall. Assuming it was a bathroom, I ran into it and discovered I was right. I flipped the switch that was next to the door and was stunned. It was beautiful. The linoleum floor was white, and the walls were white with black, lacey patterns on it. The tub had lion claws and was surrounded by purple candles, so I assumed they were lavender. Pretty fancy, especially for a teenage homeless shelter. But then I found what I was looking for, a mirror.

I ran over to it, examining the damage. It wasn't red on the front, so I turned my head around to see if it was on the side of my head, it wasn't. I pulled it off my head, feeling relief when the pressure of the bandage was gone. I was pretty happy when I was the blood on the back of the bandage. At least the scar wouldn't be visible. I felt the back of my head and looked at my hand. There was no blood so I must have been out cold for a while. I wondered how much a while was, and decided that I really didn't care.

Deciding the scar won't be a problem, I looked at my face. I had a small bruise on the far right side of my forehead and a small cut on my lip but other than that I just looked tired, like Christy said.

I didn't really feel tired, so I went to get my makeup. I thought about moving my bags onto the bed and unpack, but I really didn't feel like it. I grabbed my toiletry bag, my eyeliner, my clear extra glossy lip-gloss, my black bellbottom jeans, my black tank top, clean underwear, my toothbrush, toothpaste, and my hairbrush. I went back into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and took about a forty minute shower, cleansing myself of dirt and blood, making sure I smelled like roses. I got out and got dressed, feeling refreshed. I put my eyeliner on thick, but only on my top eyelid. I applied my lip-gloss, making my lips shine and the cut a little less noticeable. I grabbed my hairbrush, sat on the bed, and started to brush out my mess of hair piece by piece.

When I was done, I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand and realized I have brushed my hair for over an hour. It wasn't unusual but I was surprised. It didn't feel that long at all. I was pretty tired so I walked over to my bags to put my brush away and grab a hair tie. I don't like to put my hair up but I feel more comfortable with one around my wrist. I bent over to unzip my bag when the door opened straight into my hip. The blow made me fall over, almost hitting my head again. Maybe I was more tired than I thought I was.

"Oh shit! Are you okay?" asked the jerk at the door. I meant to grimace at him but I was in too much shock, having no doubt that it showed on my face. His long, glistening black hair reached his chin and covered one eye. His lips were perfect and full, - but not as full as mine- a soft pink, like flower petals. But it was his eyes that kept me staring in shock; they were black but with a hint of another color that I couldn't put my finger on, and they were deep. Do very deep I feel like I could see his soul, and it was beautiful.

His laugh made me realize he noticed my stare. I shook my head and tried harder to grimace, it was very pitiful though. He rolled his eyes and grabbed my waist, holding me up as if I weighed nothing- and I most certainly didn't. He was a bit scrawny, though I definitely felt a six-pack under his shirt and felt muscles on his arm around me.

"Hey, I'm Ian. And you?" His voice made my heart skip a beat.

"Ian," I whispered to myself. He was holding back a smile, but other than that he was waiting patiently.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, still in a daze.

He laughed a bit at my response. I must look absolutely nuts to him.

Just then, another guy was at my door. He was out of breath and his face was red. He bent over and put his hands on his knees. Once he caught his breath and his face went back to its regular color, he looked me up and down and smiled in approval. Then his eyes froze on Ian's arm around my waist. He groaned in annoyance.

"Oh man. Really, dude? You couldn't let me have this one?"

I looked at him confused. He was bulkier than Ian, short blond hair, spiked down the middle to look like a Mohawk. His eyes were gray and angry. I looked back at Ian, trying to find an explanation. He shook his head at me as if to say "Don't worry about it."

"Sorry Ricky-"

"Don't call me that!" I was shocked at the kid's outrage. He looked pretty pissed off and it scared me a bit. Surprising everyone, I cringed into Ian. "Ricky" or whatever his real name was, realized my fear and looked at me apologetically. Out of the corner out my eye I could see Ian was still shocked. I also realized that Ian was a whole head taller than me. It wasn't a big deal but it was something I noticed. After a couple more seconds, Ian recovered and looked back at "Ricky" with hard eyes.

"Alright, well, _sorry_ then Rick. I am _so sorry_ that I introduced myself to the new girl before you had the chance to scare her. _So sorry_," he said in a hard mocking voice.

"Hey man, you know I just wanted to be the first to meet her. I didn't mean to scare her." Rick was backing up with his hands up, innocently.

Ian chuckled darkly.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's all you wanted to do. Why don't you tell her? Tell her what you and everyone else does to the new kid. Go on, tell her. I'm sure she'll be flattered."

Rick glared at Ian, though Ian's glare was much more powerful. Rick looked at me apologetically, but then I noticed he also had a look of desire in eyes. I don't think the desire was lust, but he did want me for something. Rick glared at Ian one last time and he growled back, gripping my waist tighter, making Rick leave. Immediately Ian let go of me and slammed my door shut. He still looked furious, so I waited for him to calm down. I stood still waiting a few moments, watching him. He had one hand stretched out to lean against the door and the other pinching the bridge of his nose. Suddenly he looked at me as if recalling my presence five inches from him. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled at me embarrassed.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay," I squeaked, barely a whisper.

He looked at me confused, and then apologetically, as if this was his entire fault, when, actually, I think it was mine. If I hadn't cringed into him, no one would have known that Rick frightened me.

"No, it's not. Are you okay? Rick can be a bit insensitive."

I didn't know what he meant but I nodded, not saying anything. Ian wrapped his arms around me. His touch gave me chills and put me on fire at the same time. I gasped in shock and amazement by the feeling. He must have felt the fire and ice as well, because he let go of me, eyes wide. Suddenly, they were gone, both the fire and ice, which disappointed me. I liked the feeling, took pleasure in it. Just for comfort and the feeling, I wrapped my arms around him and stuffed my face into his shoulder. He was frozen for a second, but then he held me closer to him as I let my tears fall harder and harder into his t-shirt. I wasn't crying because of Rick, I was crying because of last night. It had finally hit me and I couldn't stand it. We stood like that for a second but must have been much longer because my sobs finally ended. I collapsed right into Ian, struggling now to keep my eyes open. Seeing my exhaustion, he picked me up bridal style, and laid me down on the bed. I didn't want to sleep. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. _Please don't be calling Christy. Please._

"Hey, it's me. Can you come over please? She passed out and it will be way too hot for her to sleep in jeans." There was a short pause. "Thanks. I'll give you details later." He hung up.

I tried even harder to keep my eyes open. He laughed at my struggle and I felt his presence very close to me now.

"What's your name?" he whispered in my ear. I smirked at him.

"Anonymous," I whispered back. He chuckled in my ear.

"Goodnight, anonymous," he whispered even more quietly.

And I couldn't fight it any longer. I fell asleep.


End file.
